Page 152 of The Consequences of Love and Vengeance

“I am fine, D.”

Why does he even care? He pretty much kicked me out of his house. Maybe not by force, but it still had the same effect.

He wanted me gone.

He wanted us over.

“What are you doing here?”

“You look stressed, ” he pauses, taking me in. “And something else.”

His head cocks to the side. He’s analyzing me, and this time, I hate it. I hate that he can read me so well when I can’t read him. It pisses me off.

“Well, you look like you don’t have a care in the world.”

He doesn’t actually. I know I’m stressed, and I see my stress mirrored in Drago’s appearance. He hasn’t shaved; even his hair is longer. His white T-shirt is wrinkled, and his jeans look like they’ve been worn all week.

Has he even showered?

Maybe that’s why the smell of the ocean is more prominent on him today than it has ever been before.

“I care about a lot of things. More than you’ll ever know.”

“What do you want?!” I stress, not biting on his words.

If he cared so much, he wouldn’t have tossed me out. He wouldn’t have dismissed Gabriel like that little guy’s life means nothing when it means everything to me.

Resolve washes over me.

I can’t be with someone or want someone that doesn’t wanthim.

“You know what? I don’t give a shit.”

Stepping back again, I wrap my hand around the door and then slam it shut.

“Go fuck yourself, Acerbi!” I yell at the closed door loud enough for him to hear.

“Bri,” he says just as equally loud, but his comes out as a growl.

I stand there, the resolve I just felt moments ago wearing by the second.

Why can’t I turn my feelings off for him? Why are they so strong? It’s like a rope tightening around my heart.

Silence lingers between us, and then with a hard thud, I know he’s just walked away after slamming his hand against my door.

I finally let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

Looking up at the ceiling, I blink away the unshed tears I don’t want to fall. Falling tears mean there’s more I need to face that I can’t right now. I can’t deal with my shit. I have to find Diaz, and I have to rescue Gabe.

Soft rapping on my door pulls me from my clouded mind. Can he take a hint? I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to see him.

Yanking the door back open, I go to tell him to fuck off, but I stop just before the words fall from my lips.

“Alana.”

“You have three seconds to tell me what the hell is going on?”

She crosses her arms over the green vintage wrap dress she’s wearing. The plunging neckline enhances her cleavage.

---